


Some Kind of Courtship

by fanfoolishness (LoonyLupin), LoonyLupin



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Remix Fest, F/F, Flirting, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 05:54:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11845308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/fanfoolishness, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoonyLupin/pseuds/LoonyLupin
Summary: Cassandra takes a nasty knock on the head and is forced to take some time to recover.  Luckily, Herah Adaar proves lovely company throughout the healing process.





	Some Kind of Courtship

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sqbr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sqbr/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A New Ideal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305561) by [sqbr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sqbr/pseuds/sqbr). 



> For the Dragon Age Remix Fest, for sqbr‘s fic _A New Ideal_ , a truly adorable Cass x f!Adaar fic. The idea of the Inquisitor bonding with Cassandra through fandom and squeeing over Varric’s writing was just too perfect to pass up. This is intended to be a sequel to that fic, so I highly recommend checking out that first!

Cassandra was… displeased. **  
**

She felt as if it was a reasonable emotion to entertain, given that she was laid up in Herah’s spacious quarters with a nasty hit to the head.  Herah had insisted she take the room for her recovery.  Cassandra had been helpless to resist the look on Herah’s face and the way she laid her lips gently against the back of Cassandra’s hand; she had acquiesced with only a few minor grumbles.  Herah’s large, soft palms around Cassandra’s hand were too great a comfort to deny.  

Part of that lack of resistance was the injury.  She had taken the occasional hit before, of course, but never one quite this ringing.  She did not remember it well, but from Vivienne’s abstractly concerned expression she had gathered it was a bad one.

So bad, in fact, that Vivienne’s healing – normally sterling – had not been enough to remove all aftereffects.  “Bed rest, dear,” she’d said in clipped tones.  “And I do mean rest, not simply destroying a single practice dummy a day instead of three of them.  You’re to rest and relax in all ways, including mentally.”  She raised a stern eyebrow.  “Our dear Inquisitor has told me of your love of literature, and I’m afraid the close concentration required for reading is absolutely out of the question while you heal.  There’ll be no reading until the symptoms pass.  I suspect it may take a full week, even after my ministrations.”

“A week!” Cassandra had exploded, or at least, attempted to.  But then there’d been a pounding in her head and a faint swimmy feeling, and she had settled back down amongst the blankets reluctantly.

She did not remember the first few days well.  There was a great deal of sleeping; an unpleasant amount of it, given how restless Cassandra usually found herself when not engrossed in a book.  And there was boredom, oh yes, interminable boredom after Vivienne’s twice daily checks.  She gazed out the window, hoping to hear snatches of conversation from the War Room below or catch sight of Inquisition soldiers training, but from the grand bed in the center of the room she could learn nothing useful.  Then the effort would tire her again, and back she would go into another hated nap.  

In between naps she remembered Herah’s eyes, or a soft smile, or her hand on Cassandra’s; the only good in an otherwise wretched recovery.  Sweet Herah.  Cassandra was unsure what to call this new and fragile thing between them, these fluttery feelings of delight shivering their way into the open gaps in their friendship.   _Courtship_ , she supposed, was as good a name as any, and the thought brightened her despite the fuzziness in her head.

***

Cassandra yawned, stretching luxuriantly and kicking the covers off with her feet.  She sat up in bed, and for the first day in several there wasn’t a pounding when she did so.  She did not feel completely herself – there was an annoying fogginess to her thinking – but it was no longer accompanied by nausea or a dizzy sensation.  She blinked owlishly in the harsh light of the morning.

A sound caught her attention.  Footsteps, heavy yet careful on the staircase.  Cassandra allowed herself a moment of excited anticipation, and was pleased to see her instincts were correct when the bronzed tips of Herah’s horns crested the edge of the staircase before the rest of her followed.  

“Cassandra!  You’re looking much better today,” said Herah brightly, setting down a large serving tray on the bedside table.  She sat beside Cassandra and then fidgeted suddenly, her hands twisting in her lap.

“Is something the matter?” asked Cassandra.  “My, but it is good to see you.”

Herah laughed.  “I want to hug you, or kiss you, or both, but I don’t want to bother your head, that’s all.”

“I am feeling more myself,” Cassandra admitted.  She leaned forward and kissed Herah’s cheek, a clumsy thing that nevertheless felt wonderful.  When she pulled back, Herah blushed violet.  “Believe me, Herah, there is a great deal more I wish to do than this… but I will follow Vivienne’s advice until she releases me to my duties.”  She could not help a scowl.  

“Which will hopefully be soon,” Herah said, recovering.  “It has been five days now since you were wounded, and this is the first day you have been awake enough to truly converse.”

“What?” said Cassandra indignantly.  “That cannot be.  I would have remembered –”

“Part of that is the concussion,” said Herah.  “The rest is probably the sleeping magic Vivienne has been utilizing on you.  She kept telling me how important it was to rest your brain to give it a chance to repair.”

“I hate being unable to perform my duties,” said Cassandra.  She rubbed at her face with her hands.  “You know it is not in my nature to lay idly.”

“I know,” said Herah, and the grin on her face was rich and warm.  “Why do you think Vivienne had to use sleeping magic on you?”  She chuckled.  “You kept trying to pour the elfroot and embrium infusions out into the chamberpot.”

Cassandra groaned.  “I concede your point.”  She sighed, then lay back against the pillows, closing her eyes.  “As much as it pains me to say it, I must admit I am still not fully recovered.”

“That’s completely all right.  No one is expecting you to headbutt a darkspawn today, Cassandra.”  Herah tucked the covers back over her.

“But I wish there was something to do other than to lay here and sleep.  As much as I am grateful to you for letting me rest here, it has been horribly boring in many ways.”

Cassandra felt the bed shake slightly as Herah got to her feet, then sat back down.  “I was hoping you might be well enough for this today,” she said shyly.

Cassandra opened her eyes.  Herah was sitting cross-legged at the end of the bed, a book held carefully in her hands.  “Vivienne said  _you_  couldn’t read.  But I asked her, and she said that if you felt up to it…  _I_  could read to you.  And if you drift off during, no harm done.  I picked one of our favorites, so you already know the story.”  A mischievous glint came into her eye.

“ _Swords and Shields_?” Cassandra breathed.  She gripped the covers, her knuckles whitening.  Finally!  Something to break the monotony!

“I hope you don’t mind,” said Herah gleefully.  “But I have to tell you, I have certain… voices for some of the characters.  They’re terribly silly.”

“I am certain they will be charming, if they come from you,” said Cassandra.  “You realize you are… endearing.”  She stumbled over the word a little, startled by a warm, light feeling welling up within her.  She felt nervous, but in such a lovely way.

“That’s very nice of you to say,” said Herah, her cheeks flaming violet again.  “You’re charming too, you know.”

“So.  These voices,” said Cassandra.  “I am eager to hear them.”  She settled against her pillows, happily anticipating Herah’s rendition.

Herah cleared her throat.  “Here we are, then.”  

“ _Knight-Captain Evaline stood majestically on the moors of Amaranthine, one hand shading her eyes just as majestically.  Her lissome lover Liesbeth caressed her hand with soft, yielding fingertips as the wind caused their hair to ripple, dark strands and red mingling in the harsh breeze._ ”

Herah’s voice shifted from a neutral, pleasant Marches accent to something quite different.  “‘ _Dearest Liesbeth_ ,’” she intoned in a strangely mellifluous, formal Orlesian voice.  “ _‘I cannot believe our good fortune to find some time alone.  I have greatly missed your company.  And your beautiful bosom, I must admit._ ’”

Cassandra’s eyes widened.  “ _How_  are you doing this?  It is exactly as I had always thought - she must be commanding but also soft.  A chevalier’s accent is perfect for Evaline, and the name is so Orlesian.”

Herah’s mouth quirked into a small, secret smile.  “I may have practiced my accent.  But Cassandra, you’re supposed to be resting, you know.”

“Oh, very well.  Continue.”

“‘ _Oh, Evaline.  You don’t know how badly I’ve desired you these long weeks away.  My booty has been delivered and I am yours once again, here on this deserted moor away from pirate’s galleons and Knight-Captain’s watches_ ,’” said Herah in a throaty Rivaini accent.  “‘ _Now, let me give you something to watch.  You mentioned my bosom_?’”  The low tones created a faint buzz that Cassandra could just barely feel, one that reverberated in her chest like a lute’s lowest note.  She shivered with delight at the sensation, the sound.  

“Herah, you are  _magnificent_.  I beg you, continue,” said Cassandra, reaching out one hand so that it rested against Herah’s leg.  

“Well, if you’d really like me to,” said Herah, giggling.  “I’m glad you like it.  I was scared you would think it was too silly.”

“Not silly,” insisted Cassandra, a little drowsily.  “Charming.”

“Perhaps a little silly.”

“Perhaps… a little silly.”  But silly was not such a bad thing, and this was not such a bad way to recover, with a beautiful woman with a beautiful voice reading aloud a tale of womanly love.  Cassandra drifted in and out of sleep, Herah’s voice weaving a rich web around her, her hand curled gently against Herah’s warm leg.  

This was no part of courtship she had heard of before, but, she thought, it ought to be.


End file.
